


Two Roads

by sybarite1



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: Bisexual Character, F/M, Hate Sex, Implied Slash, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 03:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11266578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybarite1/pseuds/sybarite1
Summary: In which supposed Nice Boy Tommy Vietor has hate sex with conservative media personality Tomi Lahren.  As narrated by Jon Lovett, who brought popcorn.





	Two Roads

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this is very untrue. The most untrue, even. Please do not share this fic with anyone in it.
> 
> Warnings for: egregious use of italics. To be fair, Lovett's internal monologue is trying to cope with some fairly unbelievable stimuli.

 

They’re in bar after a live DC show. Favs has left to go fumble his way through phone sex with his new wife. Or so Lovett assumes, from the look in his eyes when he pocketed his phone and left them here. Dan didn’t even come out with them so it’s just him and Tommy. They decide not to bother with a table for the two of them after their second empty chair gets “borrowed” and take stools by the bar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks Tommy.  Lovett can’t see past Tommy to the woman speaking but the significant hesitation before Tommy, usually really polite, says

“Go ahead,” is intriguing. Either she’s really hot or he recognises her from somewhere, and his recollection is _not_ flattering. Lovett is intrigued. He tries to wiggle a little and see her but can’t.

“You work in town?” she asks.

“Look,” says Tommy flatly, “I’m not interested.” Which _woah_  RUDE. Lovett is practically vibrating with curiosity now.

“Sore loser, huh?” she says snottily and finally Lovett can place the bell-high voice and Southern accent. That’s Tomi fucking Lahren on the other side of Tommy. _Hitting on Tommy!!!_  screeches his internal voice. What the actual fuck.

 _“Yes.”_ Tommy sounds waspish. “Not that you’re my type.”

She scoffs.

“Mister, I’m _everyone’s_ type. If you change your mind I’m in the corner over there with my friends.”

Tommy huffs into his glass like the word “friends” is inconceivable to him in relation to Tomi fucking Lahren. Which; point. He doesn’t turn his head as she leaves but Lovett does; _of course_ he does. She’s wearing a little flared white dress with killer nude patent heels. If Lovett were straight he’d assume that’s what the beginning of a wet dream looks like. Tommy, meanwhile, has somehow remained impervious.

Lovett, who to be fair is three drinks in, suddenly thinks it’s a great fucking idea to lean in to Tommy and say

“You should go for it.”

Tommy _does_ turn for that.

He looks at Lovett like Lovett is insane and hisses _“Do you know who that is?”_

“Duh,” he says, “haven’t you heard of hatefucking?”

Tommy goes red.

“That’s not a thing I want to do,” he says, but he doesn’t sound very convincing.

“If you won’t do it for _your_  blood pressure, at least do it for _mine._ ”

“You want me to fuck her. _For_ you.”

“Ok. So that was a weird thing to say.”

Tommy turns back to his drink.

“But yes, ok?” Tommy splutters and mostly manages to get his sip of whiskey to go where it’s meant to.

“Lovett, you’re _crazy._ ”

“That’s not a no.” Lovett points out.

“No.” says Tommy, very quickly. Lovett orders another drink and drinks it all in one go. When he’s finished and breathless he puts the empty glass down and says

“Look, I’ll come with you.”

* * *

 

Lovett is still not sure how they walked over to her table and in all seriousness picked up a 24 year old who has no idea who they are, or that one of them has only seen naked women accidentally or academically. But here they are, waiting for her to slide her key card into her hotel room door.

When they’re just inside the door she reaches for Lovett, but Tommy moves in front of him and just says

“He’s only here to watch.”

“No touchy the boyfriend, I got it,” she says, and puts her hands on Tommy’s chest instead.

Lovett takes a few steps back so he can see Tommy look down at her, grim faced. His hand comes up and slides into her hair at the back of her head. He lets her lean up to kiss him, something she can only just do in heels. He doesn’t help at all.

 _This was a bad idea_  Lovett thinks, as she begins to pull away. Just then Tommy leans down and kisses her properly. The room lights are dim but he can see how nasty it is, can see that Tommy bites her lip as he tugs her hair back. Her hands clench into the fabric of his shirt.

She smirks when they finally pause.

“That’s more like it, lover boy.”

Neither she nor Lovett are completely prepared for when Tommy’s hands move to her waist and he backs her up against the wall. From where he’s standing he can only see Tommy’s broad back, the tension in his shoulders and arms, the flush of his neck when he bends to kiss her. It’s a good view and Lovett is guiltily content with it but then she mutters “Oh, _fuck._ ” and Lovett urgently feels the need to see everything again.

When Lovett steps around the shape of Tommy, he can see that he’s got one hand on her jaw, and the other is under the skirt of her dress. They’re still kissing when Lovett prompts “Take it _off_ Thomas, I can’t see anything.” Tommy pauses with his mouth against hers, shivers slightly, and then _lets her go_. He takes a step back and puts both his hands on the hem of her dress. She’s breathing hard, eyes dark and objectively gorgeous. Lovett is not surprised that he’s turned on but he _is_ surprised that at least some of it is because of her. Tommy gathers her dress up, first baring her thighs, then her nice white underwear.

 _This is it._  Lovett thinks hysterically.  _This is a woman getting naked for sex._ He’s not much one for stating the obvious but give him a break; he never thought he’d ever actually be around for this kind of thing.

When Tommy pulls her dress up and off her, her hair lands tousled on her shoulders like they’re in a fucking photoshoot. And _of course_ her underwear matches and is really pretty; which Lovett’s numerous girlfriends (Emily) reliably inform him is Intent Of Later Fucking. She steps out of her ridiculous five inch heels and is abruptly even tinier than before; much shorter than Lovett even. She looks dainty and fuckable and Lovett is going to make sure Tommy _wrecks_ her.

Tommy steps forward and runs his thumbnail against her panties, from low between her legs up. Lovett watches the fabric cling to her skin where it’s wet and going see-through. Tommy bends to kiss her neck, starts to push her panties to one side and then stops; moves both his hands to the waistband and pulls them down instead. The realisation that he did it this way so Lovett could _see_ makes Lovett press his hand against the front of his own pants and briefly close his eyes. He’s not- he hasn’t looked yet. Has purposely avoided scoping Tommy out but fuck it, he’s _in_ this now. He casts a glance to Tommy’s pants while Tommy kisses her again and yep. Apparently hatefucking is something Tommy’s dick is very on board with.

The sound she makes when Tommy pushes a finger inside is so pretty and so _real_ that Lovett’s dick twitches in sympathy.

Everything goes from zero to a hundred; she gasps and stops halfway through unbuttoning Tommy’s shirt. Loops her arms around his neck to hold on because her knees go weak. Tommy pulls his finger all the way out and wet all over, and pushes it back with another alongside it. He presses his hand back and rolls his thumb over her clit while she breathes hard, her legs parted just enough. His hand looks so large against her sex and he moves like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Lovett can’t tell if that’s right or guess at what it feels like but her panting gives way to moaning and he’s staring at them and simultaneously imagining Tommy doing this to him; too turned on to feel guilty about how good it would probably be.

Even Lovett can tell how close she is, flushed and shaking with it.

“I’m-” she starts

“No.” Tommy says, and abruptly changes his rhythm, slowing them down into a holding pattern. Everything from his curt denial to his subsequent follow through makes Lovett feel dizzy with lust. Tommy turning to Lovett and asking “Condom?” does not fucking help. Tommy Vietor. Who could have guessed?

Tommy doesn’t bother with undoing the rest of his shirt or getting his pants off. He doesn’t even move his fingers; makes her unzip him and reach into his pants for his dick while he keeps teasing her. She takes the condom from Lovett; making eye contact easily like any of this is fucking normal. _The secret lives of Republicans_  thinks Lovett, and bites his lip at the sight of her rolling the condom down Tommy’s dick, her small hands making it look _huge._

With his free hand, Tommy lifts her leg up around his waist. He moves his fingers idly inside her before pulling them out and taking his dick in hand. She bites her lip as he pushes inside her, and then lets him put his hands on her ass and hoist her up to press her against the wall. Both her legs are around Tommy now and he’s holding her easily as he moves his hips. Lovett can’t see that much, just glimpses of Tommy’s dick moving inside her but he can _hear_  everything: their breathing, her moans, the sound of how wet she is as Tommy thrusts inside her. It’s _obscene._

Tommy dips his head to her breasts. Lovett catches the sight of his teeth on her nipple through the lace of her bra, just before she tips her head back against the walls and sobs, coming _hard_. Lovett tries to look at everything at once: the rapturous expression on her face, the satisfaction on Tommy’s, the way Tommy’s fingers dimple the flesh of her ass, her toes curling in the air behind Tommy’s back.

It’s the best pornography Lovett has _ever_ seen and there are _breasts_ in it.

She’s clearly still shaky with aftershocks when Tommy puts her down. She casts a look at the bed but Tommy shakes his head.

“On your knees.” He says, and doesn’t let her take the condom off to suck him.

He should be using a new one, not that Lovett has one. But it’s so clear to all of them that it’s less for protection than it is for making a statement. _You don’t get that_ Tommy is saying without words. The added nastiness of watching her lips shine with the mess she made on his dick is just a cruel bonus at this point. Tommy keeps both his hands in her hair, pulling it back away from her face.

“Can you see, Lovett?” he asks, his voice is deeper than before and heat runs through Lovett at the question. He moves his eyes off Tommy’s dick and up to his eyes.

“Yeah.” He says. “Yeah, I can see you.”

Tommy turns his face away from them when he comes. He’s quiet too, which leaves Lovett with the distinct desire for doing this again, for getting him to _really_ let go. Tommy steps back and drops the used condom at his feet in front of Tomi.

“See you around.” He says glibly. To Lovett’s credit it’s the least angry Tommy’s sounded since she came up to them in the bar. He zips up and fixes his shirt quickly, leaving Lovett to follow him out into the brightly lit hallway still achingly hard and self-castigating. To think Lovett thought _he_ was gonna run this show. It’s an embarrassing miscalculation but Lovett can’t be sorry about where this evening ended up, about seeing Tommy _like that._

Tommy’s colour is fading to normal, his hair is still immaculate and he’s smiling faintly; like someone just showed him a nice photo or something equally benign. Lovett will never be fooled by this demeanour again.

They’re already out of her hotel’s revolving doors and on the way to their own when Tommy turns to Lovett and smiles flirtatiously.

“Hey,” he says softly, “you work in town?”

Lovett doesn’t bother claiming he isn’t interested.

 

* * *

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me reblogging the void on my [Tumblr](https://thesafewordispumpkinpatch.tumblr.com/)


End file.
